Paradise Lost
by tsunderen
Summary: 'He wasn't really sure how long he'd been here, wherever here was. The room was pitch black, without a single sliver of light invading the darkness'  Spamano.
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaime**r: It's not mine, Hetalia is Himaruya Hidekaz's work. I'm not that imaginative._

_**Warning**: Blood, Gore, Mentions of attempted rape._

_I felt kinda insane writing this. I don't know why I suddenly wanted to do a dark fic...  
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><p>Days, <em>Weeks<em>, **Months**.

He wasn't really sure how long he'd been here, wherever here was.

The room was pitch black, without a single sliver of light invading the darkness.

It was thick, an inky black so dark that he couldn't even see his own hand in front of his face, so thick that sometimes he wondered if he was actually dead and that this is what death felt like.

**Drip**, drip, _drip_.

The sound of water dripping into this cold, dark, void of a room was slowly making Romano feel insane.

_Drip_, **drip**, drip.

The constant dripping noise echoed around the room, making him feel like the dripping was everywhere around him instead of in one single location.

Drip, _drip_,** drip**.

The room was damp, and cold, but he had long adjusted to this temperature given that he had been sat in this room for what felt like an eternity.

**Stomp, stomp, stomp.**

A different sound, this wasn't the sound of dripping he was accustomed to. These were something else, footsteps.

Who else was here?

The footsteps grew louder the closer they came to him; the sound of one pair of feet grew into the sound of a group of feet. There was more than one person coming here.

Who was coming?

Why was he here?

Why hadn't they come before?

Why wait this long?

Questions continued to stream into his head as the footsteps approached the room he was held captive in. The people outside the room conversed with each other, their conversation only coming out as mumbles to Romano's ears.

The door suddenly opened, light streaming into the dark room, the light nearly blinding Romano who had been sitting in the middle of the room with his knees to his chest.

**_"Hello there lovely."_**

The voice was deep, scratchy; no doubt the voice of a heavy smoker.

Romano looked up into the faces of his captors. The group of men before him were large, scary looking men, though to him most people looked quite scary, but he'd never vocally admit that.

His body began to shake, no doubt fear that had decided to make itself known at the sight of these intimidating men. His grip on his legs tightened around the dirty and damp material of the clothing he wore. He kept eye contact with the man stood at the front of the group; this man was quite obviously the leader of this pack of men.

The man walked over until he was stood before the trembling Italian, kneeling down onto one knee so he could look the younger looking man straight in the eyes.

**_"And how are you, Mr. South Italy?"_**

This man knew.

How did he know?

Is that why he was here? Because he was a country, did they want to experiment on him? Find out all the secrets about the personified countries?

_**"I suppose your wondering why you were brought here."**_

Romano couldn't answer, fear had shut down his ability to speak, so he was stuck just staring at the man, unblinking.

The man stared at him for a while, an unnerving silence between them, before a sadistic smirk snaked its way across his face. _**"Not answering, little one? But as I'm feeling generous today I'll tell you anyway. You've probably been guessing already, but you're here for a little bit of… let's say experimentation? When we found out that your kind existed we were quite frankly sceptical at first, but then you appeared. We want to know more about your kind, for example where are the other countries located and if you're…injured does that affect the actual country, simple things like that."**_ The man explained to him, the grin never leaving his grimy wrinkled face.

_**"We left you here for a while so you could get adjusted to your new home, aren't we kind?"**_ Another man said, joining into the leader's one-sided conversation with the terrified Italian.

Romano was suddenly grabbed roughly at the arms, dragged to his feet by the leader. He started to struggle, gaining a bit of courage in doing so as he began to thrash around violently, screaming in frustration as he tried to free himself from the painful hold this man had on him.

_**"There's no use in struggling boy. You aren't going anywhere."**_ He said as he slung the thrashing Italian over his shoulder and out of the room.

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><p><em>Months<em>, **Weeks**, Days.

These things didn't seem to matter anymore, who knows how long he had been here. Things had only just started getting worse since the men had made their appearance and started their 'experimentations', but they might as well have called it torture, as that was what it was.

They broke his limbs.

The pulled off his fingernails.

They electrocuted him.

They used water torture on him.

They stabbed his eye.

And here he was now, lying in the darkness of his stone prison, looking merely like a broken doll.

**Drip**, _drip_, drip.

The tears he once so easily shed refused to come out anymore, all of his tears dried up, just like any hope he had of escaping this hell.

Did the other Countries realise he was missing?

Did Veneziano?

Did Spain?

They probably didn't. If they were looking for him wouldn't he be free by now? They probably pushed the matter aside and carried on as normal, after all it's only South Italy.

South Italy isn't nice.

South Italy is Violent.

Why couldn't South Italy be more like North Italy?

Italy didn't need two personifications.

**Stomp, stomp, stomp.**

Here they came again, the demons in human form.

The door swung open, and in the doorway stood a lone man, it wasn't the leader, Romano realised.

This man was just one of his henchmen, he'd seen him at plenty of his torture sessions, but why was he here alone? Whenever they came to get him for some experimentation it was always the leader who came to retrieve him, so why was this man here by himself?

The man slowly began to walk into the room; his eyes never leaving Romano's broken form, the man looked him up and down, his tongue darting out of his mouth to wet his cracked lips.

_**"I always thought you were a pretty thing. I've been resisting up until now, but a man's only got a certain limit of restraint, you understand?"**_ The man said with a lecherous grin on his face that only reminded him of the perverted country of France.

But this person wasn't France, and Spain wasn't there to save him from these glances. His heartbeat began to quicken as he realised what the man was hinting at. He watched with wide eyes as the man reached down to undo his belt.

Romano's breathing quickened; if it were to go any faster he would be hyperventilating. The man, after unravelling his belt began to approach him.

no.

_No._

**NO**.

And suddenly his world turned black again.

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><p>He slowly opened his eyes as he returned to the land of the living, grunting at the pounding in his head. The room was light, why was the room light? Where was the darkness he was used to?<p>

He looked around him; he was still in the same room he had been confined in, except the door was open, that being the source of the light as it shone in from the hallway.

Why was the door open?

He looked around frantically before his eyes stopped on the walls.

**Blood.**

Why was there blood smeared on the walls?

He slowly got to his feet, looking down to see that there was also blood on the floor.

Who did the blood belong to?

He made his way out into the hallway, taking small careful steps, almost as if he was relearning how to walk after the long period of lying down on the hard floor of his cell.

There was blood out there too. But this blood was more like a trail, as if somebody had been dragged down this hallway, bloody and broken. He could hear his own heartbeat clearly.

Thump thump. Thump thump.

He followed the trail down the hallway, into another room which he guessed would be the men's recreational room as the first thing he saw was an old television.

Walking further into the room he looked around before his whole body froze at the sight before him.

_Dead bodies_.

There was a pile of dead bodies on the other side of the room. Looking closely at the bodies he suddenly realised who they were. These people were his captors. The people who had kidnapped him and held him captive here for all this time.

How did this happen? Who did this?

In shock he pressed his hands to his cheeks, only to recoil when he felt a warm, wet and sticky sensation on his face. He removed his hands from his cheeks and stared down at his hands.

There was blood on his hands.

**_Blood._**

Where did that blood come from?

He hadn't touched the blood that was in his cell.

The blood was still warm.

At close inspection he realised that there were clumps of flesh buried underneath the few remaining nails he had.

Was all this….his doing?

Did this make him….a _murderer_?

Yes….that's what he was now. A criminal. A killer. No better than these people who had kidnapped him.

He **killed** them.

**He** did.

Tears he forgot he had slowly clouded his vision before he let out a gut wrenching scream that tore apart at his vocal cords and echoed all through the building that he had been held captive.

_"I killed them…"_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Disclaimer**_: Hetalia belongs to Himaruya Hidekaz.

_**Warning**_: Theres some blood and a little swearing.

_This chapter is set during the time period of the beginning of the first chapter.  
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_Want to thank everyone who has reviewed so far, they make me smile when I see them, I hope this chapter lives up to your expectations!  
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><p>The tension inside the conference room was thick; all the countries present the only ones willing to help in the search for the elder Italian sibling. Italy was sat next to Germany, the normal happy grin missing and in its place a very pained expression as he looked down at his clenched fists in his lap. He looked smaller than he usually did, his shoulders sagging and his head facing downwards. Germany was beside him looking as stern as usual, but when looked at closely there were signs of his stress in the form of bags under his eyes and a deeper set frown.<p>

Spain was looking more than worse for wear, with deep prominent bags underneath his eyes, signs of him not sleeping for days, endlessly worrying for Romano and his well being. His skin was almost nearly drained of its colour, his usually tanned complexion looking pale and waxy. He was sat opposite Italy and Germany, his elbows resting on the table as he gently massaged his temple.

The other countries willing to help in the search were America, England, France, Prussia, Japan, Hungary, Austria, China and surprisingly Russia. The tense atmosphere continued for a few more minutes, nobody knowing what to say. These meetings had been held every week since Romano had disappeared a month and a half before, with no signs of where he could be or what could have happened to him.

The silence was suddenly broken at the screech of a chair being pushed back; everyone glanced up at Germany who had stood up, obviously deciding that the silence was unbearable and that he should take control of this meeting.

"I think we all agree that sitting here in silence will not bring us any closer to finding South Italy. Doesn't anybody at all have any sort of information to his whereabouts? Anything at all?"

His questioning was only met with silence, some members of the meeting looking as though they had given up all hope in finding the Italian.

"Well why don't we recap on what we know so far?" England suggested from the other side of the meeting table, "Even small pieces of information can do great things."

"The last place Romano was seen was in Sicily, this was after he went to see Italy at about midday on the 12th of May. Italy informed me that Romano was suppose to be heading straight to the airport after visiting to head over to Spain, but instead went to Sicily. The reason for this change of plans is still currently unknown." Germany explained.

"And then after that there were no signs of him at all? If we are to base his disappearance on the most popular theory of kidnap then surely somebody must have witnessed the crime taking place?" questioned Austria.

Spain sighed from across the table as he looked up at Austria with tired eyes. "It's obvious that this was a planned kidnap. Romano would never run away for this long, not mi amor."

"Dude, does this mean that somebody out there knew he was a country? Because I totally can't see somebody making up this kinda scheme for one little Italian kid, y'know?" America asked suddenly, slamming his palms onto the table as he stood up suddenly.

"For once America is right, how long will it be before another of us is taken?" England added in from behind his cup of tea.

Germany frown deepened as his agitation grew "I think at this moment in time we have bigger things to worry about than-"

"Mon dieu! Mon chere your eye is bleeding!" France suddenly exclaimed, getting out of his seat to approach Italy who was still sat in the same position as earlier beside Germany. His left eye was bleeding profusely, dripping down his cheek and onto the table before him, but the expression on his face didn't change into pain, it just stayed the same sad melancholic expression as before with the blood running down like red tears.

Germany suddenly pushed his chair out of the way and kneeled beside the small Italian man, grabbing his cheeks and turning him to face him. Italy's expression still stayed the same, and his eyes were unfocused as though he didn't realise what was happening. Austria handed Germany a handkerchief which he used to quickly wipe away the blood, before gently patting him on the cheek to try and get him focused again.

Italy suddenly wrenched his face out of the Germans gentle hold and stared up at the ceiling before letting out the most heart wrenching scream. His hands reaching up to grip at his hair as he continued to assault his voice box with the screech.

The other nations looked startled at these sudden turn of events, nobody really understanding what was happening with the other nation.

The scream suddenly died down, Italy eyes regain their focus and he starts looking around the room at the other nations, looking confused but responsive, he continued this action until his eyes landed on Germany.

He suddenly grabs Germany's arms and pulls him closer to look him in the eye, tears running down his face and mixing with the already present blood.

"R-Romano, he's hurting. Germany, Romano is hurting. They're hurting him Germany! Stop them, **_STOP THEM_**. **THEY'RE HURTING MY FRATELLO**." He screams hysterically, blood starting to run down from his left eye again.

"_**STOP HURTING HIIIIM**_." Italy screams before slamming his face down onto the table in front of him. Blood began to pool around his head, the other nations unsure if it was from his bleeding eye or a new injury caused by his sudden face plant.

Germany slowly reached towards Italy's shoulders, attempting to check if he was ok from his sudden self inflicted injury, but was stopped when Italy suddenly raised his head.

"**STOP**"

His face met the table again before lifting up.

"**HURTING**"

He repeated his previous action again.

"**MY**"

And again.

"**FRATELLOOOOO**."

And as he went to do it again he was promptly stopped by multiple nations holding him back as he was screaming and flailing, repeating 'Fratello' like a mad man.

"What the bloody hell is wrong with him?" England shouted suddenly, gripping onto Italy's legs trying to hold them down, surprised at the strength the smaller man suddenly had.

"The hell if we know! Just hold the kid down!" America shouted back as he was holding Italy from around the waist, trying to keep him firmly in his seat. Russia was standing besides America and had his hands planted on the Italians shoulders to help hold him down. Germany was sat in front of him, trying to get the smaller man to calm down with light slaps to the face.

Italy suddenly went limp, all his thrashing, screaming and insane screaming dying down as his head limply fell down to his chest. Everybody sighed in relief as the episode seemed to have finished. They all relinquished their hold on the petite man and slowly took a step back, looking cautious in case he suddenly started up again.

At the sound of Italy groaning awake again everybody prepared themselves for the worst. He looked up at everyone, blinking in confusion as his eyes darted around the room again before this time coming to a stop on Spain.

"_Spain_."

"_Spaaaain_."

"_Spain, it hurts. Spaaaain_."

Everybody stared at the Italian with looks of disbelief on their faces.

That voice wasn't Italy's voice.

It wasn't Veneziano's voice.

That voice belonged to **Romano**.

"R-Romano?" Spain suddenly exclaimed, quickly approaching the younger Italy and kneeling before him, looking up into dazed eyes.

"Spain, why won't you help me? I'm scared. I'm really scared Spain. Why aren't you helping me? _Spain_. **Spain**. Spain." Romano's voice spoke through Italy's body, then falling into a mantra of his name, tears falling down his face.

"**S**PA**A**A_A_A_A_A**A**A**_AA_**_IN_"

The sudden screech startled everyone again, and Germany quickly ran forward and swiftly hit the boy at the back of the neck, knocking him unconscious. The Italian then fell forward into Spain, blood still dripping from his eye.

Silence once again fell on the room, nobody knowing what to say, nobody really understanding what just happened. Spain lay Italy down on the ground, picking up the handkerchief from before and wiping away at the remaining blood.

"Holy shit dude. That was like something out of a horror movie. What was he doing, channelling the spirit of Romano or what?" America said in awe, but was swiftly tackled by an enraged Spain.

"Romano isn't **DEAD**." Spain snarled into his face, eyes wild like a raging bull.

"How the hell do you know if he isn't! He's been missing for over a **MONTH**. Dude, we have no clues to where he is even after all this time, where's the hope in us finding the kid!" America shouted back, looking back into Spain's eyes with similar rage.

"He isn't dead. Italy and Romano have a connection. Because they are one nation what one feels so does the other. I'm guessing that Romano's strong emotions came through in Italy. And if what he said is correct then we can assume that South Italy is currently being held captive and is being tortured." Germany explained.

Spain looked down at his clenched fist in America's shirt, before loosening his grip and getting off of the other nation. He took in a deep breath, the other nations could see that he was close to tears at this new revelation. He took a few more breaths to collect himself before turning to look at the others.

"I'm going to find him. I'm going to find him and bring him home, _no matter what_."

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><p><em>In case you are all confused about Italy, as explained by Germany they are connected, so as Romano is slowly loosing his mind in captivity Italy is now prone to feeling these strong moments of insanity and will reflect them. It's like if Romano is hurt, Italy feels the pain as well kind of thing. But Italy isn't going to be turning insane himself, he'll just have little episodes of insanity courtesy of Romano. Just thought that may need a bit of an explanation.<em>


	3. Chapter 3

_Well this is long overdue, I apologize._

_I blame my laziness, and the fact I spontaniously decided to write a high school fic, please check that out ;D_

_But yes, I'll try and get this updated faster next time, the next update will be my other fic which will be out in roughly a week or two, and then this'll be updated hopefully a week or two after that._

_Hopefully._

_**Disclaimer:** I do not own Hetalia, Himaruya Hidekaz does._

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><p>The door slammed open as Romano quickly stumbled inside, coming to a sudden stop in front of the bathroom basin. His hands were gripping to the sides of the bowl, the blood making a handprint on the white porcelain as he panted heavily, his chest heaving violently.<p>

He couldn't stay here; he needed to get away from here and fast.

With his thoughts in a chaotic mess inside his head Romano didn't know what to do first, what he needed to do to cover his trail, hide the mess he made.

With shaking hands he turned on the faucet and started to desperately scrub at the blood crusting on his arms, trying to wash away the evidence of his moment of insanity. Thinking about those moments caused more tears to steadily flow from his eyes, and he just continued to furiously rub at himself all the while sobbing.

He turned his attention to his blood stained face as he glared at himself through the bathroom mirror. If he were to be perfectly honest he looked like a train wreck with a crusted handprint of blood on both cheeks, though half of it was now running down his cheeks again in a mixture of blood and tears. There were bruises all over his face, with a particularly bad one on his left eye which had not too long ago been stabbed, though his actual eye healed fairly quickly due to his status as a nation oddly enough the bruises seemed adamant to remain, almost like a cruel reminder of what monstrosities he experienced inside these walls.

Soon enough after all the scrubbing and dunking his head in a basin full of water his skin was seemingly clear of blood, though he still looked a mess with his puffed bruised eyes and his hair dripping wet with water.

'_What do I do now? I still have to get rid of the bodies somehow, I need to get out of these clothes since they're all bloodstained and I need to figure out where the fuck I am…'_ Romano thought to himself as he paced back and forth in the small bathroom, anxiously running his hands through his hair.

He quickly stormed out of the bathroom he had originally been pacing in, looking up and down the hallway. There were lockers up against the wall down the hallway, with a few of them opened up to reveal cracked mirrors and old dusty hardhats down the hallway to his right. He walked briskly towards them, opening different locker doors to examine the contents. There were more hardhats, clip boards, a bottle of what seemed to be gasoline, empty toolboxes, lone hammers, a box of matches, overalls and a white t-shirt.

'_This must be something like a factory or a car garage or something'_ Romano thought to himself, before he grabbed the shirt and overalls out of the locker and began to strip himself of his filthy blood stained clothing. He pulled the shirt on over his head, and even though the shirt seemed quite small in size it still hung off his body showing just how unhealthily skinny he was at the moment. After kicking off his shoes and pants he pulled on the black overalls opting to only wear it on the bottom half as he tied it around his waist. He stuck his original boots back on because as far as he could see there weren't any other form of footwear in this lone hallway and he really didn't have the time to be searching for some.

Grabbing hold of the lighter and gasoline he began to make his way back towards the small mountain of bodies but not before picking up his original clothing off the ground, as he couldn't afford to reveal that he was actually here through a stupid mistake as leaving your own clothing lying around.

He arrived back to the bodies, freezing up tensely as he caught sight of the gory mound of flesh. He turned his back on it quickly and took long deep breaths to collect himself; he could feel the tears returning to his eyes as he caught a glimpse of his own chaotic mistake. After a few more moments of controlled breathing he turned back around.

'_I really want to fucking puke, actually scratch that I am going to fucking puke'_

Romano looked down towards his bundle of stained clothing in his hand before throwing them on top of the bodies, then unscrewing the cap of the gasoline bottle and soaking the bodies in the flammable liquid. After he was done he held up a match before striking it against its box and throwing it on the pile, which quickly erupted into flames before him.

The sight fascinated him.

He didn't know why, because moments ago he had been close to upchucking at the sight of them but as soon as they were in flames it became _entrancing_.

To see his mistakes being erased in the flames brought a sick sense of glee to his heart, making him think to himself that maybe he would get away with this. He could go home back to Italy and eat pasta with Veneziano and harvest tomatoes with Spain and everything would go back to the way they were a few months ago.

'**No. What if they find out what you did? They'll never look at you the same again.'**

'_But they wouldn't just abandon me they lov-'_

'**Do they? Do you really think they **_**love**_** you? If they did feel any love towards you then why have you been here for this long? Why haven't they come to rescue you?'**

'_Maybe they couldn't find me, maybe they're still looking no-'_

'**WRONG. They were never looking for you. Why would they **_**want**_** to look for **_**you**_**? After all, you're only little South Italy, a no good brat that couldn't do the simplest of tasks, who unlike his brother cannot **_**create**_** only **_**destroy**_**, who always has and always will live in the shadow of his little brother.'**

Romano's breath hitched suddenly, though as bizarre as that situation was the voice in his head spoke the truth. These were things that Romano often found himself in denial of but deep down was aware that they were the truth.

'_T-That's true. I'm nothing like Veneziano, I don't cook, I don't clean, and I only cause trouble for people, especially Spain. I mean, he even once tried to trade me for Veneziano…'_

'**I always speak the truth. They don't want you back; they never wanted you there in the first place, your better off by yourself.'**

Romano fisted his hands tightly at his sides as he struggled to hold back the river of tears that were threatening to flow, he started to try and slow down his breathing as he stared at the burning bodies in the flames. Taking one last deep breath finally pushed the tears back and he turned to face the opposite direction.

He looked down towards the coffee table and spotted a lone switchblade lying on the polished wood; he slowly reached down towards it and gently picked up the blade, holding it close to his face as if to examine it closely. He then closed the blade before slipping it into the pocket of his stolen overalls.

Taking large quick strides he made his way out of the room and back into the hallway, walking down the other end of the hallway before spotting an open door that lead to the outside. Quickening his pace to a jog he made his way to the doorway before slowing down upon arriving there and cautiously peaking out the door.

A forest.

Wherever he was being held was in the middle of the forest. There was a single dirt road that had the telltale signs of being driven on by a vehicle of sorts. Romano was about to start following that trail before something dawned on him.

'_If some more of those bastards come and see me walking by this road they'll fucking take me back, or worse they'll find out what I did and kill me…'_

He gritted his teeth; he'd have to wing it. He'd need to go in any random direction and hope for the best. He looked to the sky, which was rather dim, with an orange glow coming from the distance above the trees, he could assume it was very early morning.

So if he started this trek now then hopefully he'd arrive to some sort of civilization before nightfall.

Calming his now shaking limbs he began to walk into the shrubbery, determined to get away from the building that brought him his own personal hell.

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><p><em>Voices in your head isn't usually a good sign of ones mental health.<em>

_Let me just add that I'm sorry that there isn't much excitement this chapter, the excitement will come soon!_

_So will the Spamano._

_Not romantic yet, more in the Psycho!Lovi meets insanewithworry!Spain way._


	4. Chapter 4

_Guys, I'm so so so so so sorry._

_It's been a while since I last updated this, a long while._

_I could ramble on and say that I was busy with university and moving house and blah blah blah but that's only half the story._

_You could say that I got fed up of writing for a few months, I had no motivation to update any of my stories at all, but then one day as I went on to to check out some fics I realised just how long overdue this chapter was._

_So here it is._

_It's kind of short, since I found it half written from the end of last year on my computer and had to sort of remember where I was trying to go with it, though I can say it's not one of my best, but i'm glad it's finally here! the next chapter will be much better I can assure you, though the updating process wont be a stable schedule, i'll update when I can, possibly once a month? that's the best I can manage at the moment guys since I do have a final show to prepare for in university, it's extremely stressful!_

_I'd really appreciate some reviews too, so I don't feel like i'm apologising to myself ;-.-_

_again, i'm really sorry! I hope you all enjoy the chapter :'D_

_also i'm sort of posting this half asleep, so i'm sorry if there's any grammar errors if you see any point them out to me because my half asleep mind couldn't see any when I read over it...  
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_**Disclaimer:** Hetalia belongs to Himaruya Hidekaz._

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><p>"You don't think <em>fratello<em> did this, do you Germany?" the small Italian man practically whispered to his much larger German friend.

Germany just stared at the still burning bodies, pausing for a moment as he tried to think of a suitable thing to say to the auburn haired man that wouldn't cause unnecessary fuss and panic. "It's only a possibility at the moment Italy. There isn't enough evidence here to start pointing the finger, as far as we know it could have been an intruder."

They had found the location of this warehouse from a man they had captured a few weeks ago, it was obvious that he knew where Romano was, but kept his lips tightly sealed until Russia took over the interrogation. As soon as they got the location they made their way over there as quickly as they could, only to be greeted by the sight of blood stained walls and burning corpses.

And Romano missing.

He'd sent Spain, America and England to investigate the building a few moments previously, and he was really hoping that they would come back with results, clues and evidence, things that could give them even the slightest hint at where Romano could be.

"Ve, G-Germany.." Italy began to stutter out, but Germany was still lost in his calculating thoughts. Italy fisted his hands into the sleeve of Germany's jacket and started tugging, trying to get the other mans attention.

"G-Germany, hey listen to me" Italy continued with a few more light tugs.

But Germany still wasn't listening.

Italy gritted his teeth together, his worry and lack of sleep causing him to loose his nice personality briefly as he harshly tugged at Germany's arm.

"**GERMANY!"**

Germany looked down at the Italian clutching onto his arm with wide eyes as he couldn't believe that Italy had just _shouted_ at him. Italy was looking up at him with wide frightened eyes as he raised his shaking arm to point into the rising flames.

"R-Romano… I can see Fratello's shirt in there! T-that's a clue right… right?"

Italy spoke quickly, his breathing getting faster as he continued talking, almost to the point of hyperventilation.

Germany grabbed the smaller man be the forearms and held him still, which caused the young Italian to stop his hysterical rambling.

"Italy, stay focused."

With tear brimmed eyes Italy nodded quickly, biting his bottom lip in an obvious attempt to stifle his sobs.

"But I'm not wrong am I? why is his shirt in there? Is he running around without clothes? Did he get kidnapped _again_? Germany we need to find him fast, we can't leave him by himself any longer!" Italy asked quickly, confusing the German with all of his quickfire questions, with his arms still on the Italian he gave him a few shakes to try to bring the boy back out from his histerics.

"Italy, please just calm yourself **down**!" he shouted, at the brink of shouting at the poor boy.

He let Italy go as he turned to gaze into the flames with squinted eyes, his eyes focusing on the remains of a creamy brown material, strikingly different from the black material found on the body. Italy's assumption was confirmed when he caught sight of a military badge that he recognised from the elder Italians uniform.

"Italy this is a very vital piece of evidence"

Italy turned to look at him, his eyes lighting up in hope as he squeaked out "I-It is!"

"Yes, the good news is that your brother wasn't kidnapped again, he escaped by himself"

Italy gave him a confused look as he gazed between the blonde haired man and the burning flames.

"I don't understand Germany"

Germany sighed, he should have expected that the Italian wouldn't follow his train of thought.

"The bad news is that this also leads us to believe that all of this is the handywork of your brother. I can only assume that he threw in his shirt to try and hide the evidence, and quite badly at that."

"How is his shirt evidence?" Italy pressed.

"Blood, Italy. If we are to follow this assumption we can only gather that he threw in the shirt due to the fact that it was blood stained, and if he were to make his escape the only place he could attempt to go would be through the forest which will eventually lead to the nearby town. This means he will come into contact with people, do you understand now Italy?"

"A-a little, I think what your getting at is that if he went towards the town with a bloodstained shirt he would grab a lot of attention and he'd be taken to either a hospital or a police station, that would mean they'd find out it wasn't his blood that he was stained with, t-that is only if he's the one that did it, but I don't think he did Germany! He must have been framed!"

Germany raised an eyebrow, "Who would frame him?"

Italy bit his lip again and cast his eyes downwards.

"I…I don't know. But I do know that fratello would never do something like this, sure he has a really short fuse and a bad personality but I know that he wouldn't hurt anyone! He's as people say all bark and no bite."

Germany could really commend Italy's undying faith in his brother, even if the circumstances were staking up against his favour. He closed his eyes and sighed before letting a small smile ghost his features as he gently laid his hand on the trembling Italians shoulder.

"Of course Italy, we will get to the bottom of this, and the best way to do that is to find your brother and ask him what happened."

Seeing the German smiling caused the Italian to gently smile back at the other, glad to see that he had somewhat swayed the other away from fully accusing his brother. They were here to find him not accuse him of murder!

"Veee~ Germany you mentioned the town before right? Then that would be the next place to start searching! This fire hasn't been here that long so Romano couldn't have gone any further than the town I'm sure of it! We Italians may be fast but we can't go that distance without stopping for a break!"

'_Yes'_ thought Germany, _'The town…Please Romano, stay where you are, let us find you... for Italy's sake…. And for Spain's'_

'_They need you back.'_


End file.
